


nothing you could do (could ever stop this feeling)

by compost, uwu



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-03
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-22 13:57:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4837805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/compost/pseuds/compost, https://archiveofourown.org/users/uwu/pseuds/uwu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wherein Steve never becomes Captain America, Bucky never gets captured by Hydra and also: kissing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	nothing you could do (could ever stop this feeling)

**Author's Note:**

> Like most things, this is all Jay's fault.  
> inspired by [this gif](http://33.media.tumblr.com/d2d9409d34b5abfe9f29ff70b50493d4/tumblr_lgj7umH1Wj1qh7487o1_r2_500.gif)

Bucky’s kissing Steve up against the wall of their apartment when he’s drafted, he doesn’t know it at the time, communication having not yet reached the point of all those H.G. Wells books Bucky reads. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway, he was too busy pressing kisses into Steve’s mouth, trying not to shove him too hard into the wall lest he make sound their neighbours can’t ignore.

When he first found Steve amenable to Bucky slotting between his thin thighs, to Bucky hunching his shoulders down and moving in too close, he just about lost his mind. He spent as much time as he could, as they could afford, trying to sink into Steve, eat him alive and hold him close. Rubbing up against him and having Steve’s legs wrapped around him while he whispers, “Stevie -- dollface, Stevie -- ,” into his ear.

He’s not smooth at this, not in the way he pretends to be around girls, too focused on Steve. Bucky can’t bring himself to pull away too far from Steve to get their clothes off faster; Steve not unwrapping his legs from around Bucky’s hips was definitely not helping. He manages anyway, to shuck their pants and shorts off in one go, pushes right back against Steve, settling in just as sweetly as always. Like they were made to fit.

He’s not thinking about anything but this, but Steve, but sliding in close and feeling that spark ride up the base of his spine, familiar but no less exciting for it. Just of Steve throwing his head back hard enough to make a solid sound, the way Bucky’s name sounds on his best guy’s lips. “Do you know,” he says, “how crazy it makes me when you say my name like that?”

“Sweetheart,” he loses into Steve’s mouth when he grabs at what little ass Steve has, gropes at the curve of it and tries to drag him in closer. “Jesus,” Steve spits out and Bucky laughs,

“Ought’a wash your mouth out for that kinda talk.”

Steve’s supposed to say shut up, to glare but all he does is push his tongue into Bucky’s mouth, running hot beneath Bucky for all he freezes during winter. Steve whines low in his throat and Bucky wants to chase that sound, wants and wants, so much that he feels slow with it; head stuffed full of cotton. Steve’s too sweet, too pink, blush slipping past his shirt where neither one of them had bothered to take off more than what was necessary.

“Oh.” Steve breathes, voice run through and cracked thin as he loses it in the heat between them. “Stevie,” Bucky loses into Steve’s neck, mouth sloppy against where he wants to leave marks on Steve. His hips rut forward while Steve makes empty, almost painful sounds, as he pushes against Steve’s oversensitized dick.

“Please,” Steve whispers into Bucky’s hair, almost too soft to hear and Bucky grinds forward once, twice, three times before he’s coming. Bucky breathes out and smiles at Steve, soft and sweet.

 

* * *

 

That’s what he’s thinking about when he’s finally recruited, when he’d finally left Brooklyn courtesy of the Good Ole US of A. It’s what he thinks about every time the guys in his unit are talking about their own respective sweethearts, some of ‘em downright filthy with how they’ll rub in how great of a fuck their girl back home is. Bucky’s got no interest in any of that, and he’d never dare share anything he and Steve did; not just cause he’d be discharged but because that’s theirs and it’s private.

But the guys’ll still ask.

“Barnes, hey, you never talk about no sweetheart back home, you even got one?” Some asshole who’s name he never bothered to find out asks him one night as one half of the unit was sleeping, dead tired from the amount of walking they’ve been doing around France.

Bucky looks up at him wearily, he honestly doesn’t want to have to deal with somebody trying to wheedle information out of him again about Steve. He gave up keeping a picture for safety, keeping Steve safely in his head where no one can pry or hate what they have.

“Don’t think that’s your fuckin’ business, private.” Bucky says, flipping over on his bedroll away from his scrutinizing gaze.

“Give it up, Jameson, Barnes ain’t told nobody ‘bout back home before - you ain’t gonna be the one to make ‘im crack.” Bucky smiled at that, he didn’t recognize the voice but at least he’s made his point clear enough in the past that someone will stick up for him.

“Yeah fine. He prolly ain’t saying nothin’ cause he a fuckin’ fairy or something. ‘S that about right there Sarge?”

Deciding whether or not he wanted to get in this fight, and if they’d deduce that him denying it means he was in fact well, what he was, took some self-control. In the end he sighed softly and shifted a bit on his bedroll.

“Tell ya what, private. We make it outta here alive, you can meet my sweetheart right off the boat. Then y’all can shut the fuck up and go back to fucking your wives and not just sitting round each other talking about it to get off. Get to sleep.”

“Holdin’ you to that Sergeant Barnes.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

 

* * *

 

It’s too loud, even before he reaches the shore, fireworks and huge crowds cheering. He doesn’t care, doesn’t care that the fireworks sound too much like the war he just left, that there are people cheering for them, all he cares about is finding Steve. Fuck it if they’ve won the war, Bucky’s won a ticket back home to his -- to Steve; his Steve.

His stomach’s got the jitters as they anchor in at the docks, he doesn’t even know if Steve’ll be here but he’d sent out a telegram at the earliest he could. All he wants is Steve, to go home; be warm for the first time in a year, be full of Steve’s shitty food rather than stale bread and spam. He just wants Steve.

The crowd’s so thick he couldn’t see Steve no matter how much he tried. And after what felt like ages of pushing through families reuniting, tears, kisses; he still couldn’t find him.

Which is of course when he hears a familiar, grating voice behind him and turns around to private whothefuckcares with a gorgeous brunette on his arm. He’s tired, and all he wants is to go home and curl up next to Steve, not have to deal with this.

“Where’s that sweetheart a’ yours, Barnes? It’s lookin’ like you were making big talk to me”

“You know private,” he says, “you’re really grindin’ my gears.” He’s turns his head to look away so he doesn’t do something drastic, like punch the guy in the face, when he sees Steve. Everything falls away, the steady buzz of civilization dropping into the background, because nothing else matters but this, but Steve in this moment.

For a sec his guy looks so lost, a blond head trying to peek over the rest of the scragglers but Bucky can tell when Steve catches his eye. Steve’s hair looks too long, he looks thinner than Bucky remembers him being, but his shirt looks freshly pressed and his smile is bright enough to make Bucky’s knees weak.

Bucky vaguely registers the voice behind him but what’s caught him at a standstill is Steve making a run for him. “Buck,” Steve calls out, not quite yelling but loud enough to be heard, “Bucky!” Bucky throws a smile at the private before turning to Steve and saying, “There he is.”

Steve leaps into his arms and Bucky throws his arm around him trying to make him as comfortable as possible, before stealing a kiss from his best guy. He grins into Steve’s mouth too happy to be bothered by anything, not the private or Steve knocking his hat off. He just holds on tight, grips as hard as possible, not wanting to let go.

He pulls back just enough to whisper, “I missed you.”

Steve presses a kiss to his cheek. “Oh yeah? I didn’t even realize you were gone.”

“Punk.”

“Jerk.”

“Knew you was a fuckin’ queer Barnes, you’re sick.” The private scoffs to the side of them, bursting all the happiness and illusion that him and Steve could have a reunion just like the rest of the army sweethearts got to.

Steve dropped out of Bucky’s arm in an instant, the same stubborn expression on his face as the day Bucky had met him.

“What’d you say, pal? You got a fuckin’ problem?” Steve was about to go up and give the private a good ol’ knuckle sandwich but Bucky held him back.

“Come on, Stevie. He ain’t worth gettin’ bloody fists over. This one can shove it.” He could see the amused expression on the private’s face, his gal looking at Steve and Bucky like she didn’t want any part of this (Bucky couldn’t help but agree). He pulled on Steve’s arm to get him to turn and face Bucky. “Please. Just got you back, dontcha wanna be spending time we’d be patching up all your bumps and bruises on a little somethin’ else?” Bucky threw out a deadly smirk at Steve, hoping it’d get him to quit while he’s ahead. He just wanted his fella back in his arms again.

“Guess I’m lettin’ you off easy on this one.” Steve _had_ to throw in as Bucky all but dragged him away from the incredulous private spewing off one last “fuckin’ queers” at them.

“Steve,” Bucky says and has to fight to keep a grin off his face when Steve smiled at him.

“Bucky,” Steve says.

**Author's Note:**

> While obviously Steve and Bucky would never publicly show their relationship like this at the time, it was a cute premise and well ya know.


End file.
